


Not Like This

by codenametargeter



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Anders Lives, F/M, This is not Happy, post-game fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 04:28:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18242384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codenametargeter/pseuds/codenametargeter
Summary: The battle between the mages and the Templars in the streets of Kirkwall is over but Hawke can't rest yet. Because she made a choice and spared a life and now she has to figure out how to live with it.





	Not Like This

“You don’t get to touch me right now.”

Somewhat taken back, Anders remained frozen for a long second, his hand extended to caress her cheek, before nodding, dropping it, and taking a step back. “I understand.”

“No,” Hawke said, turning away from him. “I don’t think you do.”

It had been hours since the Chantry had been blast into oblivion and the streets of Kirkwall had once more run red with blood. (For the second time. How in the Maker’s name had she seen that happen twice in a mere handful of years?) The Templars had let them go for now but she knew that begrudging respect would only last so long. Eventually, Knight-Captain Cullen would remember he’d seen Anders alive and well and then they’d come for him and anyone who harbored him. She figured they had a few days, maybe a week at most before they’d have to flee the city. That would be tomorrow’s problem though. Right now, she was still running purely on adrenaline and was praying she could take her heavy armor off before it fled completely and she was left without the energy to even stand.

Carefully, she undid the buckles on her gauntlets and yanked them off, dropping them far less carefully to sit beside her helmet. Infuriatingly, Anders did nothing but follow her lead, leaning his staff up against the wall. His faster task completed, he stood there quietly, watching her, waiting. She had no mild amused grins or sarcastic remarks left in her. She wasn’t sure she had anything left at all. “Do you really want to do this tonight?”

“Do what?”

“Discuss what you did.”

“We can discuss it whenever you’d like,” he said, that hint of self-loathing creeping back into his voice. “I owe you my life, love.”

A moment later, her bare fist connected with his face, knocking him off balance. He placed a hand against his red cheek, rubbing at it but not saying anything. Hawke stood straight, almost trembling with rage. “No. You owe your life to all the innocent people you murdered to force a war.”

“Then you should have given it to them!” Both of them blinked, seemingly equally surprised by his shouted words. Anders recovered first. “I understood the consequences. My life was forfeit. There’s nothing you can say that I haven’t already th--”

Something inside of Hawke had snapped the moment she’d punched him and now there was no stopping her anger, fatigue forgotten. “Then why did you lay your Maker cursed martyrdom at  _my_  feet?” The words were there now and she couldn’t stop them any more than she could stop her own heart from beating. “You thought of yourself and of your cause and told yourself you thought of me, that you were protecting me.”

“I didn-” he started to say.

“No. You never gave me a choice, Anders!” Her short nails dug into her palms. “You were so caught up in giving your life for the cause that you never even considered how cruel it was to ask the woman you said you loved to be your executioner.” 

"You did make a choice. You didn't kill me."

"And you expected me to."

Anders drew in his breath. "I will do whatever you ask to fix this. To fix us."

"I don't know that you can."

His brow furrowed, confusion written clearly across his face. "But you said you'd come with me to try and help free the other mages."

"I..." Hawke sighed. She brought a hand up to her temple, rubbing at it. This was too much to handle tonight. She could feel the last bits of adrenaline slowly seeping from her body. It was rare that she found herself at a loss for words; usually she had a smart remark for every occasion but how could she make a glib quip tonight of all nights? "I'll go with you and I'll fight for all of them and their right to be free but I can't be with you. Not like that. I just... I let you think you'd heard what you needed to hear before we faced Meredith." 

If she thought he'd looked surprised when she'd refused his touch before, it was nothing compared to his expression now. He looked... broken. His voice was hoarse as he said, "So I've broken your heart then. Just like I always said I would."

Just hearing those words hurt more than she could have possibly imagined. How could he possibly be so right and yet so wrong at the same time? "Maker's Breath, Anders! Don't you understand? I  _want_ things to be how they were before. I want with all my heart to kiss you, to drag you into my bed and keep you there until neither of us can think straight. But I can't," she said, her voice cracking on the last word, hands balling into fists at her sides. “Because I love you, Anders, but I don’t trust you and I don't know if I ever will again.”

“I understand,” he said and this time, she thought he actually did. The silence hung between them for felt like a painfully long time. Finally, he repeated, "I understand. More than I wish I did." He gestured vaguely behind himself. “I'll move m—”

“You can stay here but you’ll sleep in a room that isn’t mine,” Hawke cut him off, granting herself that tiny satisfaction. He didn’t get to be the one to say that.

If nothing else, he seemed to understand. He pressed his lips together and inclined his head. “As you wish.” 

A wave of exhaustion swept over her, the day’s events finally catching up like she knew they would. Andraste’s Breath, she’d hoped to have her armor off by now. Swaying, she stepped back so she could lean on the table’s edge, grasping on to the wood tightly for balance. With her other hand, she started fumbling at the straps. Within seconds, another pair of hands lightly brushed against hers. “Let me,” he said. “Please.”

For a moment, she considered refusing on principle but then logic won out. There was something in his dark eyes that made her believe there was no motive behind the words. (She knew what they looked like when he wanted something, Maker did she know.) Instead, she just dropped her own hand and nodded, letting him work. After so many years together, he knew how to take it on and off her almost as well as she did.

He went to work thoroughly and methodically, tugging off each piece without any of the flirtatious looks or sensual touches that had often been an integral part of this process in the past. Instead, it was as if she was a knight and he her squire and there had never been any love between them. And yet the familiarity was enough to make her heart ache with longing because this was Anders, the man who had shared her bed and had her heart for years, but he wasn't  _her_  Anders any more. Not since the Chantry had been blown out of existence. 

"I meant what I said all of those years ago," he said as he knelt to work on the metal plates encircling her legs. Curiosity got the better of her and she looked down into his eyes just as he raised them towards her. "I never wanted to hurt you and knowing that I did... It's worse than losing you to the Maker himself." 

This all felt wrong. She'd had him on his knees before and Andraste knew she'd enjoyed what use he had put his talented mouth and magic to but that was different. There was something about seeing Anders, her beautiful Anders who wanted nothing more than to be free, subservient on his knees before her like this that felt wrong. It was almost enough to shatter her heart into a hundred pieces for the second time that day. "You don't have to do this," Hawke said, ignoring his confession.

He nodded, never looking away as he moved on to the last piece. "I know." 

"Thank you," she said as he set the last of her armor aside, leaving her in just her boots and the padded garments she wore beneath the armor plates for the sake of comfort. 

Hesitantly, he reached for her hand, pausing just short of touching her and waited. She inhaled sharply but didn’t move hers away, a silent acquiescence. Taking it in both of his, he pressed his lips softly against her knuckles in a wordless everything. For a brief moment, Hawke felt herself waver. Maybe love was enough. Maybe she could forgive him right there and then. But then she looked into his eyes and saw no ask in them, no silent plea for her to change her mind. There was only acceptance. A sad, almost smile on her lips, she squeezed his hand, lingering for a moment before reclaiming it. Dropping his gaze, he stared at the ground for a moment before rising to his feet and stepping back even further than before.

The moment gone, she cleared her throat and stood up straight. “We can discuss our plans for leaving Kirkwall tomorrow with the others.”

His lips parted, perhaps with an amusing remark about Fenris or Isabela on them but whatever it was died before he could speak the words. Instead, Anders nodded. “Until the morning then.” He turned to leave but paused in the doorway, lingering there. “I'm sorry, Adara. You don't know how sorry I am for all of this.”

Hawke swallowed hard. "Would you do it all again? Knowing how it ends?"

His silence was answer enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> The alternate title for this is the entire first verse of the cut song 'Congratulations' from Hamilton. Anders, I love you but what the hell and also you broke my heart. Also I know that I'm, like, a zillion years late to the fandom but at least I'm here now?


End file.
